


Team Imbalance

by ajremix



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1701668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based of a line from s10 episode 1.  The various ways Wash has kicked Red Team's asses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Imbalance

The trip back to Vuh... whatever it was base was silent. At least after Caboose's initial bought of energetic curiosity and the pilot ordering Tucker and Wash to strap him down which eventually led to Caboose dozing off.

Eventually, as peaks began to rise out of the ocean horizon, Wash asked, "So what do we do?"

Tucker, having been lulled to a half-conscious state by the monotony of travel, jerked his head a little. "What?"

"What are we supposed to do? What's the purpose of these bases?"

"We're suppose to fight the Reds. Capture their base or some shit."

Wash turned away and Tucker would've said he looked thoughtful but he was wearing a fucking helmet and it's not like he cared enough to tell anyway.

That should've been his first clue.

~*~*~*~

The second clue was when Wash took things like 'patrol' seriously. Or at least seriously enough to understand Tucker wouldn't do it and Caboose couldn't understand. So he patrolled on his own which eventually led directly to the third clue- the fact Wash hadn't come back on time.

The comm in Tucker's helmet crackled. "/After we've captured their base,/" Wash's tinny voice asked, "/then what?/"

Tucker charged out of the base and across the canyon, snagging Caboose as he went. "Goddammit."

~*~*~*~

It took about ten minutes to get Wash to release the Reds, another ten for him to apologize profusely and then an hour of the Reds being pissed off and demanding compensation for their 'traumatic ordeal' or there'd be retaliation.

It would've gone on longer until Tucker said, "Dude, he just kicked all your asses and you want to start shit up again?"

The Reds stilled.

"I see yer point," Sarge drawled.

Simmons held up his hands in placation, "Hey- no harm, no foul."

"Says the guy that won't be limping for a weak." Grif rubbed at the back of his knee where a boot-shaped bruise would likely be forming beneath the underarmor.

"Like you're not going to milk it for all you can to get out of work."

"Fuck yeah, I am!"

"But," Wash said because apparently learning when to keep his mouth shut was never part of his training, "you said we were supposed to capture Red Base."

The Reds turned to Tucker, obviously thinking they had a much better chance taking on the mastermind. "Whoa, whoa- hey! That's what we're _supposed_ to do! I didn't say we actually did it!"

Wash drew his head back, scandalized. "You don't follow the orders your given?"

"It's not like anybody ever checks up on us or gave us a time limit or anything."

"Why not?"

"Man, I dunno! It was _your_ boss that ran the show! We're just cannon fodder, remember?"

The frown on Wash's face was audible. "Oh. Right."

"Besides, the Reds are the ones that usually attack _us_."

"Damn straight we do!" Sarge broke in. "Now that everything's been straightened out- get outta our base, ya dirty Blues!"

~*~*~*~

The Blues were on top of their base putting the portable grill Caboose had bought to good use as Wash could apparently work it well enough to cook edible food. ("I read the manual," he said when Tucker asked.) As they bite into their burgers there was a small explosion, the sound of metal against metal and cursing. Lots and lots of cursing.

Wash looked at the direction of the noise and said, "We should check that out."

"Sure," Tucker told him. The went off to investigate after they'd finished their food and Tucker grabbed another burger for the road. Along what was tentatively called the perimeter of Blue Base, they found the Reds tangled together by an anchored cable. They'd stopped cursing in favor of arguing with each other and, as the Blues approached, fell silent in favor of glowering. Tucker turned to Wash and said, "This is your fault, isn't it?"

"You said the Reds normally attacked us, so I set up defenses."

Tucker turned back to the Reds, "Why _are_ you attacking us? You know there's no actual Reds or Blues anymore, right?"

Sarge twisted around until he could put a boot in Grif's helmet for no other reason than because he could. "Of course we know that!"

"Then why are you attacking us?"

"Because I can't trust you untrustworthy Blues to not try using it as an excuse to catch us unawares. So we were preemptively catching you unaware to discourage you from doing something as dishonorable as attacking us when you know we know there would be no reason for it!"

There was a long, long pause. Eventually Tucker said to Wash, "Dude, you do whatever the hell you want, I don't care anymore." Then he left to get another burger.

~*~*~*~

Wash still did patrols for whatever reason, but Tucker supposed everyone needed a hobby when they were stuck in this little hellhole. Then, right on time as always, Wash came back. Then, as he never did, Wash called out, "Do we have a brig?"

"A what?"

"A brig. Holding cells. Somewhere to put prisoners."

"You have a prisoner?"

"I... think so?"

Okay, that warranted Tucker having to check it out. Sure enough, there stood Wash with his rifle kind-of-sort-of-not-really-pointed at Grif. "Dude! How did you get a prisoner?"

There was a long pause. "I don't actually know."

Being prisoner was apparently old hat to Grif because he stood with his arms crossed and said, "Why don't you just put me in your hole?"

Tucker was aghast by the suggestion. "What? Dude, no!"

Wash's head tilted, "We have a hole for him?"

"No! No holes! No one is putting anything in anyone's hole!" There was another pause. "And I just realized how gay that sounded."

"I'd say it sounded more homophobic."

With a glare, Tucker said, "Why don't you go barter a ransom or something? I figure out what to do with Grif."

Shrugging, Wash left. Grif told Tucker, "You know Sarge isn't going to give you a damn thing for me, right?"

"Not like you guys have anything worthwhile. Wanna play cards while we wait?"

"Sure, whatever."

"How did he capture you, anyway?"

"You know, I have no idea."

An hour later, Wash came back to base. He couldn't negotiate Grif's release but somehow managed to capture Simmons instead.

Tucker just stared at him. " _How_?"

"I... don't know that, either."

~*~*~*~

Sarge had asked Wash over to Red Base to help fix the Warthog, citing the fact if that Tex woman had the training to fix a tank, he probably had training in fixing jeeps. Having nothing to do themselves, Tucker and Caboose went to watch.

After problems were fixed and maintenance done, Wash leaned under the hood to replace the oil that he'd just flushed out. That's when Sarge pounced at him with a ' _hiiiyaaaa!_ ' and a wrench that Wash neatly deflected with his armored forearm. He kicked the jack out from under the Warthog, causing Sarge to howl as the tire slammed onto his foot and with a deft maneuver, Wash flipped the jack up, grabbing it out of the air and throwing it at Simmons and Grif, charging up from behind. It ricocheted off their helmets, knocking them both out. Wash hadn't spilled a drop of oil the entire time.

Only when the bottle was empty did he stand up, capping the tank and lowering the hood. He looked at Sarge and asked as if getting attacked during repairs was routine (and it probably was for those freaky Freelancers), "We good here?"

"Yeah," Sarge wheezed, hands scrabbling for the wheel well in an attempt to relieve the pressure. "We're good."

Wash looked at his two teammates and said, "Well, let's get back then."

Caboose hopped up eagerly. "Sure thing, Church!" Both Wash and Tucker had long since stopped correcting him.

Tucker hung around long enough to tell Sarge, "Why do you keep trying?"

He managed to shift the tire just enough to slide his foot out. "Tell ya what, Blue. You keep him on your side of the canyon and we'll keep to ours."

"Works for me."


End file.
